


Karkat Vantas and The Three Holds

by lucky_spike



Series: Stabdads [9]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Holding Hands, Stabdads AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-14
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucky_spike/pseuds/lucky_spike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat discovers that some holds are just bad, some are just awkward, but some are just right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karkat Vantas and The Three Holds

Outside, the thunderstorm was raging on. Rain lashed hard at the windows, lightning forked across the heavy black thunderheads and funnel clouds rotated past overhead, harmless so far. In his townhouse’s dim, poorly-decorated kitchen, Karkat standing by the window, his hands in his pockets, staring up at the sky. “It’s pretty bad,” he informed Terezi.

She sniffed and grinned broadly. “Petrichor.”

“That’s not even a word, Terezi.”

“Is too; it means the smell of dust after rain.” She punched him in the shoulder. “If you were doing your vocabulary homework you’d know that.”

He scowled at her, wide-eyed, as if it would make any difference. She was freakishly good at being blind, synesthaesia or whatever it was called helped big time there, but he kind of doubted she picked up on the subtleties of facial expressions. “I do my homework!”

Or maybe she did, because her grin only got wider. “ _John_ does your homework and you write down what he says. Nothing gets past me, Karkles!” She prodded him in the ribs then, and he squirmed away, batting at her with his hands. “You can never escape!”

“ _Stop_ it,” he tried to yell, but he was too busy flinching and giggling. Goddamn girls, how did they always figure out weaknesses so quickly? “Goddammit Terezi _stop_ ,” he wheezed. She had him backed up into the corner between the wall and the fridge, pinned. He waved an arm to push her away. “Get off.”

Just as he asserted this particular suggestion, his hand, waving wildly at Terezi’s skinny form, collided with a very particular part of her thoracic anatomy. Chills shot down Karkat’s spine and he froze, just as Terezi did the same.

“Uh,” he said, stunned, and why he couldn’t just take his hand off her boob he’d never be able to explain. It wasn’t even like she _had_ actual boobs – they were still a few months short of seven sweeps, and Terezi hadn’t been quite as, ahem, precocious as her sister in that regard – but nevertheless Karkat found himself a subject in the world’s most awkward tableau(1). Outside, hailstones joined the raindrops and the windows rattled.

It wasn’t until a particularly large stone struck the glass window on the back door that they were able to spring apart, Karkat immediately shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, and Terezi promptly crossing her arms across her chest. Lightning cracked outside, and the power went out. _Just fucking perfect_.

“You’d think this shitty city would have a better power grid,” Terezi said, her voice slightly more shrill than normal. “You lose power when the leaves start to fall, I mean, Jesus.”

Karkat took a breath. “Listen, Terezi, I’m really sorry, I didn’t _mean_ to –”

“My mom will be here soon.”

Karkat bit his tongue and looked outside. Even though it was pitch dark, he was fairly certain conditions were not suitable for driving. “I . . . don’t think anyone is driving in this, Terezi.”

He heard her sit at the table. “I wonder why she was late today. It’s not like her to be late. She had to know I’d end up here, and if Slick finds me –”

“Okay, one, he can fucking deal with it and two, the storm _started_ up your way, Terezi; it was probably already too bad by your place before we even had to start running.” Which, thankfully, hadn’t been far from home. The clouds had been building, and they’d quick-stepped most of the way, breaking into a run only when the drizzle had started. They’d got inside just before the real rain started, even after they paused at the street corner to look for Snowman’s car.

She shifted in the uncomfortable silence that followed, the chair creaking even under her slight weight. Karkat scrambled for something to say, _anything_ , but he came up blank every time. “Fuck, listen, Terezi, it was just an –”

“You clamped on like a fucking lobster, retard.” She snorted. “It wasn’t the cheap grope, it was the subsequent fondling.”

“I didn’t fondle you!”

“Uh huh. So what was with the sustained contact?”

“The rictus of fucking terror!”

He heard her turn around. Lightning flashed, and he could see the thin arch of her eyebrow and the very slight upward twitch in her lips. “Rictus of terror, huh? Touching a boob sent you into a paralytic fit?” He opened his mouth, realizing too late where she was going with this, but he didn’t get the words out fast enough. “I knew you and Egbert were more than friends!”

“Holy fucking shit you did _not_ just suggest that,” he groaned, loudly, throwing himself backwards into the fridge. “I am hallucinating a universe in which the very thought of that does not cause me to explode from pre-hypertension!”

Terezi was on her feet again, holding his shoulders. “Hold onto that dream, Karkles. Hold it tight, don’t let go.” She sniffed. “Did you burst a blood vessel?”

“ _I am not attracted to John Egbert_!”

She snickered. “ _Su_ -ure, Karkles. I totally believe you. In my jar of hearts.”

He cracked an eye, and it glowed yellow in dark. “You mean heart of hearts?”

“Nope.”

His shoulders slumped, and he looked to her, completely incredulous. “You’re ridiculous.”

Suddenly her bony, spidery hands were on his chest, cupping where his boobs would be, if he had any. “How’s that, Karkles?”

He flailed out of her grasp, bouncing off the stove and ducking around to the other side of the table. “Stay the fuck out of my personal space!”

He could picture her, if not see her: standing there, wide shark smile, one hip cocked out to the side, her fist on her hip. “You are totally not winning points toward your ‘not attracted to John’ claim.”

“I am not attracted to Egbert, Terezi, oh my God!”

“So why do you and he always –” She never got the chance to finish because just then, like a foul-mouthed, ill-tempered, extremely violent guardian angel, Spades Slick blew in the front door, along with maybe ten gallons of rain, which continued to pour in as he swore at the weather.

“At least the fucking desert had the fucking decency to be a little goddamn consistent!” he howled, while Karkat and Terezi exchanged glances by lightning flashes; Terezi’s expression puzzled, Karkat’s exasperated. The door was eventually slammed shut, and the squelching black figure approached down the hall.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Fuck off.” Halfway across the kitchen, Slick paused, peering into the darkness that was enveloping Terezi. “Who the fuck is this?”

“I’m Terezi.”

“Oh. You.” The squelching continued through the kitchen, and disappeared down the hall toward the man’s room. Another door slammed.

Terezi sighed. “You two must be very happy together.”

“If you define ‘happy’ as ‘grudgingly tolerant’ then yes, we’re delighted.”

“You’re adorable.” There was a mechanical roar from the office, and then a flicker, and the lights came on. Not all the way, but enough to see by. Sure enough, Terezi was standing just as he’d pictured, looking altogether too pleased with herself. It only served to put Karkat in an even darker mood, and part of him wished Slick had just left the generator off.

Spades returned then, still soaked to the skin, despite the black raincoat. Puddles were forming in his wake.

“Hey, uh, I didn’t know if you noticed but it’s raining,” Karkat sneered, jerking a thumb toward the window. “Not a great day to be outside.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He looked to Terezi, snarling a little. “The hell are you so happy about? And why the fuck are you in my house?”

“We couldn’t find Snowman,” Karkat said quickly. Like ripping off a band-aid, he thought. The sooner he got through the initial rage reaction, the better.

“Fuck her,” was the knee-jerk reply. “Bitch.”

Terezi clasped her hands behind her back and smiled sweetly, teeth concealed once again. “She has similar sentiments.”

Slick was evidently unsure of how to respond to that, as he fixed Terezi with a mildly affronted look for a second before spitting out “Well good. Fine. Stupid bitch.”

Karkat groaned inwardly. This was his nightmare: the inherent, unstoppable cheeriness of Terezi Pyrope versus the vicious temper of Spades Slick. Innocent lives were at risk. He had to intervene, quickly, naturally. “How was everyone’s day?” he blurted, before his brain had a chance to input anything more intelligent.

Slick stared. Terezi beamed. At least they weren’t talking. “Since when do you give a shit?”

Karkat rolled his eyes, looking out the window at the storm. “Oh, I don’t know, whatever. Don’t answer it if you don’t want to, Jesus.”

“You’re fucking infuriating.”

“You know what you two need?” Terezi chirped. They both looked to her, Karkat slowly shaking his head. Whatever was coming next, it would in no way shape or form be good. “You need to just hug it out. Just let it all come out.”

Slick started to sneer, some profanity-laden retort doubtlessly on the tip of his tongue, when he paused, mostly because Karkat said “oh, gross, Terezi my clothes are fucking _dry_.” His eyes widened again as Slick turned to him, and suddenly he knew real terror, and not because there were two nearly-identical toothy smiles fixed on him. “Ah, shit.”

Slick was on him in a blink, and Karkat realized that the man had honestly never hugged him before. Spades wasn’t a touchy-feely person anyway, and the most elaborately physically affectionate he’d ever been with Karkat was the rare pat on the shoulder or head. He was surprisingly strong for such a skinny guy and, Karkat was disturbed to notice, you could feel all the knives he carried, even through his clothes.

He was also soaked, and was doing his level best to include Karkat in that state of being. “You asshole,” Karkat mumbled.

“Teach you to have a fucking attitude,” Slick retorted, not letting go. Karkat didn’t struggle, partly because it wasn’t really a _hug_ so much as a restraint – Spades had pinned his arms to his sides – and partly because the man’s right arm was mechanical, and probably stronger than Karkat was willing to experiment with.

Water was puddling under their feet.

“Isn’t that better?” Terezi cackled gleefully. “Karkat gets the attention he so desperately craves, and uh . . .” She stopped, stymied by a proper term to refer to Karkat’s guardian by.

“This is stupid,” Karkat grit out. He was pretty sure his nose was pressed against a breadknife. Whatever it was, it was serrated. “Let go.”

Slick, remarkably, did so, crossing his arms and smirking at Karkat. “That’ll learn you,” he concluded, before turning on one damp heel and stalking back to his room. Karkat waited for him to slam the door before he started wringing his shirt out.

“Well fucking thanks, Terezi, that wasn’t uncomfortable for anyone at all and I do positively love wearing second-hand dampness.”

“You should hug more often; it looked like you both enjoyed it.”

“ _Ah ha ha_ hilarious, yes, very fucking funny.” He stepped out of the puddle, his socks nearly slipping on the linoleum. “I need to change my clothes.”

“Should I go with you?”

“ _Fuck_ , Terezi,” he hissed, “Slick’s probably listening at the door.”

“Serves him right for what happened over the summer.” They shared a shudder – the image of Slick and Snowman together in that car was forever burned into both of their brains, in whatever senses the scene had been available to them.

The next crack of thunder was so loud they both jumped, Karkat’s attention rapidly shooting outside to see what had been struck – for the thunder to be that loud, something _must_ be on fire nearby. “I don’t think your mom’s gonna be here anytime soon,” he said cautiously.

“Me neither.”

He looked around the kitchen. “You want a snack?”

“As if there’s anything else to do.”

He nodded. “Alright, let me change my clothes.” He pawed through the pantry and its meager contents. “We have about forty boxes of macaroni and cheese, popcorn, some trail mix bars –”

“You had me at macaroni and cheese.” She found her bag, discarded in a corner of the kitchen, and flourished a box. “And Strider gave me a movie to watch today so we could kill some time with that!”

“’ _Snakes on a Plane_ ’? Taz that movie is supposed to be unabashedly awful –”

“Which is exactly why I think we should experience it.” She turned away with a degree of flounce. “Go get new clothes or whatever and then let’s abuse the entire point of having a generator.”

Karkat was halfway down the front hall when he hit the puddle. His ass hit the hardwood with a resounding bang, and it was only a moment of panic that kept his head from following suit. Terezi appeared around the corner. She clutched the doorframe and smiled widely in his direction. “Try not to die first, Karkles. I need you later.” Her eyebrows waggled. “For things.”

“Not here you fucking won’t,” Slick growled, squelching through the background, seizing a bottle of whiskey, and turning back around. “Keep your goddamn hands to yourself and don’t break my fucking house.”

Karkat laid back, groaned, and wished for a short, painless death. Terezi picked her way down the hall, around the puddles, to where he was and stood astride him. She bent down, her zipper smile on full display. When she offered one spindly hand, he took it, and she hoisted him up and led him carefully out of the minefield of puddles Spades had left when he’d blown in with the storm.

And, save for a few brief moments while Karkat wriggled out of his wet clothes and into some clean ones, she didn’t let go of him for the rest of the night.

And Karkat, though still a little twitchy and cautious with his hands due to the accidental groping earlier in the evening, didn’t mind in the slightest. Because there are some holds that are bad, some that are awkward, and some that are just right.

-()-

 

(1) Still Life With Boob Grope


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